While certainly not the street drug, the "crack" could be the beginning of something new, the split of my pants, or the demise of my angst-ridden mind. Which one am I serving up today? Read on. Feel free to comment, argue, dismiss, or inform. I welcome it all.
Sunday Funday . . .
I really don't miss much about my days of smoking the wacky-tabacky (now a distant, hazy memory at best) but there are days that I wish I could have had My Morning Jacket in those days.